The main draw for this well-balanced programme was the
piano soloist, Paul Lewis, who had been scheduled to appear during the
last night of last year’s Proms, and he did not disappoint. Before the
Beethoven Third, we heard the first performance at the Proms of Henze’s
‘Fandango sopra un basso del Padre Soler’, the originating harpsichord
fandango of which was described by the composer as being influenced
by the Moorish sound-world and the spirit of Iberian folk dance, a spirit
strongly reflected in Henze’s work, with its swirling melodies and sometimes
frenetic pace. As Paul Daniel cavorted in his frock coat, I’m sure that
many members of the audience could not help wondering, as I was, what
he had been thinking this week about the fate of his major musical home,
and what he plans to do about it. Has the vicious timing of the ENO
board’s announcement prevented any useful protest, or will Mr Daniel
be inspired to take a leaf out of Bernard Haitink’s book and threaten
all but a plague of locusts unless the ENO gets a decent deal? One can
only hope.

Paul Lewis spent some time as a pupil of Alfred Brendel,
so comparisons are de rigueur, but Brendel’s influence upon him is very
slight, his true musical precursors being Solomon and Wilhelm Kempf.
It was once said of the former, "Of what is known in this day and
age as showmanship, there was no trace in his playing, nor did he seek
to stamp the music with his own personality: there was no suggestion
that ‘This is my Bach or this is my Beethoven.’ He was the medium between
the composer and the listener." The same might be said of Lewis;
whilst his attack during the Allegro lacked neither brilliance nor panache,
his interpretation was guided by the music rather than any desire to
show off. The greatest pianists, in my view, reveal themselves, as do
the greatest string quartets, within the slow movements, and so it was
here. The melancholy, ruminative Largo with its elaborate writing was
played with real delicacy as well as a Kempf-like management of the
tensions inherent in the phrasing, and the same kind of heightened control
was evident in the Rondo. His huge ovation was well deserved.

The evening’s main work was Vaughan Williams’ Fourth
Symphony, the composer’s aggressive, angular answer to those who dismissed
him as a writer of ‘cowpat’ music. After the first rehearsal of the
work, Vaughan Williams remarked, "I don’t know whether I like it,
but it is what I meant." – Paul Daniel had obviously decided that
what he meant was anger and frustration, possibly that of an older composer
challenged not by the historical context of the work, but by the disturbing
newness of the music of his younger contemporaries. Daniel and the orchestra
hurled themselves at the music, particularly in the Scherzo and the
Finale with its rugged brass and fugal conclusion, and although I cannot
say that this is a symphony which I am eager to hear again soon, this
performance made as strong a case as could be imagined for its place
in the canon of great twentieth-century works.